Safe in Small Numbers
by Genius-626
Summary: Epilogue. About a month after the movie, Luke and Mei are just about settled in Seattle. Their friendship grows stronger as they share their tragic stories and as they realize how much they actually have in common.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: To clarify, this fan fiction is based on the movie "Safe" written and directed by Boaz Yakin, featuring Jason Statham and Catherine Chan. **

**I haven't been able to find any fan fiction for this movie, so I'm not sure how much attention this fic will receive. However, I am not one to dwell on stats, all I ask is that you read and enjoy. I'm not sure if this is going to be anything more then a one-shot, so praise, flame, or ignore the review box to your heart's content.**

Safe in Small Numbers

In the heart of Seattle, former NYPD officer Luke Wright was standing in line at the grocery store. It was an interesting feeling, paying for groceries with money he hadn't particularly _earned, _still unemployed at the moment and falling back on his and Mei's copious savings_. _It wasn't just that, however. Buying groceries in this bulk was a nice change from dumpster diving and living off of the budget of a dollar a day, sometimes less. The last time he'd done anything like was a year ago, when Annie was still alive. It felt good to be off the streets. It felt good to have a purpose again. With the disks in his reach and both Russian and Chinese gangs off of their backs, he actually did feel safe. Not only safe, but after so much time feeling utterly miserable, enough to bring him to the edge of that subway tunnel, he actually felt kind of happy. Things were actually turning up.

As good as things were, he still had business to take care of, and he knew how serious Mei was about business. He looked at his watch. 2:42. He looked back up at the front of line, a woman fumbling through her purse, apparently looking for her check book. Luke had never thought of himself as an impatient man, but for the last year, he'd never had someplace where he needed to be—and this woman was taking _forever. _If he was held up any longer, he would be late to the "parent-teacher conference" that he was required to attend with Mei after school, the commute from their apartment about twenty minutes time while the school day ends at 3:10.

"I can help whoever's next in line."

_Thank God. _Luke thought as he made his way to the next line over.

When he reached his car, he placed the bags in the back seat before getting in himself. He adjusted the mirror before returning his hand to the wheel, but for a brief moment was lost in his reflection.

"Yeah, Annie," he said to himself, though he really did feel as if she were there with him, watching over his new life with pride now that he'd turned his life around. "—thought my first day at school would be with our kid, too." He smiled, looking away from the mirror. "Got to admit, though, I think this'll be more interesting."

…

"So, Mr. Wright, you're Mei's adopted father?" asked Mei's home room instructor, Mrs. Kimberley. She was a woman who couldn't be more than 50, and by the looks of her classroom, was an expert in the field of mathematics. Her graying hair was pulled up in a bun, which remained Mei of her mother, but only a little.

He'd expected the obvious questioning though he'd already explained and verified everything to the administrators when registering Mei for the school. Well, _almost _everything.

"Yes." Luke answered, glancing at Mei who was sitting just next to him. They had already agreed that the titles would be taken lightly between them, knowing that in the eyes of society, they were father and daughter, but in reality, they were just good friends. Friends who saved each other.

"How'd you tell?" Luke went on, looking back at Mei's instructor. "My accent, or the fact that we look so much alike?"

He earned an amused smile from the woman sitting across from him. "Well now, I see where Mei gets her sense of humor."

He gave a small smile in return, choosing to leave out the fact that they'd only known each other for a little more than a month. But naturally, he felt a bit of pride as well, wondering what Mei had said earlier to give away the fact of her cleverness. She was exceedingly cunning for her age, it in deed a trait he felt they had in common.

"Mei, can you be a dear and step outside for a moment?" Mrs. Kimberley asked, her eyes now meeting Mei's. "Before we can talk about our plans for your private schooling, there are some confidential things your father and I are required to go over."

Mei nodded, hating the wishy-washy-fluffy tone to the instructor's voice, treating her and Luke as if they were dumb children. She glanced back at him before leaving the room, their eyes meeting, a look of understanding crossing his face. They always seemed to be on the same page. Though Luke may look like just a pretty face—judging by the looks random women gave him on the street, anyway—Mei knew from experience that he was not as stupid as he seemed. But just as crazy. He was still crazy.

When Mei closed the door behind her, Luke was still able to see her silhouette against the fogged glass of the classroom door. Mrs. Kimberly cleared her throat to get his full attention, which she did promptly receive. When she spoke her tone changed immensely, her attitude becoming very serious.

"Here at our school for the gifted and unique adolescence of today, this meeting is to be treated with the _utmost importance._" Her eyes stared into his, looking for a confirmation that her understood the gravity of this hour they would spend together planning Mei's future at the academy. He gave a quick nod, not at all intimidated by her, but respectfully aware of his compliance. She continued. "Even parents of direct relation to their children can have the worst of intensions." She paused, opening a drawer and taking out some papers. "This is the parent contract. In order for Mei to attend this school, we need you to pledge your full dedication to her and to us, stating that you are not enrolling her here for your own benefit. I personally think this policy is a bit harsh, but necessary. We've had some troubled children here, abused, used, by parents and foster parents alike."

Luke looked at her, then at the papers. He took the pen she offered and read through them silently, understanding his situation perfectly. He was an American born in the UK, his resume stated that he'd been kicked out of the NYPD and had taken a job in garbage disposal; his records stated he'd been homeless and broke for a year, then just right out of the blue, he had money, was still unemployed, was living in Seattle and had adopted a genius eleven year old girl from China.

They were bound to be a bit suspicious.

As he started signing the forms, he thought he needed to prove his point personally, to make it plainly clear to this instructor what he'd been through and how serious he was about Mei. It'd be a talk she wouldn't soon forget.

"Before I met Mei," he began, eyes still on the papers, hand still writing. "My life meant nothing. Everything I'd ever known was taken away from me and there was nowhere to go and no one to turn to." He stopped writing. "I was about to end it, there was nothing I had to offer to anyone, and there was nothing I could do." He looked over to the door, Mei's silhouette still plastered to the window. "The first time I looked into her eyes, I knew that she was special. I swore to protect her because she saved my life." He looked at the instructor then, seeing the understanding in her eyes, along with the burning curiosity. He slid the papers to her side of the desk. "In no way would I ever use her, she's had enough of that."

Mrs. Kimberley was speechless for a moment, fixing her suit jacket and fidgeting with the papers, putting them into a file folder and placing it in another drawer. He could tell she had questions, but could see that she was too professional to ask them. At least directly.

"You adopted her to protect her? From…"

The he knew. This woman really did know something about them. She knew about Mei being the girl so many were after in New York just weeks ago. She knew he was the one who was able to call off the search for her, even though she didn't know how, and didn't want to know.

So now she knew why. More or less.

"We'd like to put the past behind us." Luke finally said. "So please—"

"Of course." She reassured him. "It's a pleasure to have her in the academy. And I must say, she couldn't be in more capable of hands."

"I've heard of your school's credentials, so I think she'll like it here, too."

"No, Mr. Wright. I was talking about you."

He regarded her statement for a moment, than nodded, making his way to the door to let Mei back inside.

…

"I don't like her very much, but at least she's smarter than my old teachers. _Way_ smarter." Mei said as she finished her dinner. "I only liked my old school because of my friends and because I didn't have to work too hard."

Luke nodded as he stood and took their plates. "Why don't you like her?" he asked.

"She talks too much and she smells like fake cherries." Mei scrunched up her nose a little in disgust.

"You mean like the ones _Jack in the Box_ puts in their shakes?" Luke asked as he started to wash the dishes. Their dislike for those gross excuses for cherries was also something they had in common, something they'd figured out on their drive to Seattle from New York.

"Yeah. But she's not my only teacher, and I'm glad, I don't even like math."

"But you're so good with numbers." He replied jokingly. He actually had quite a good understanding of having talents and not wanting to use them. He was in no way looking for another job in law enforcement. Maybe he'd try for something a little classier then garbage disposal, but he'd never really been unhappy with the job.

After she didn't reply, he tried to keep the conversation going. "Well, if you don't like math, what do you like?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, standing from her seat and walking into the small kitchenette, propping herself on the countertop across from him as he dried off his hands. "Science is kind of fun, but boring most of the time. English is Ok, but boring, too. History can be boring, but it depends on what war we're learning about."

"So everything bores you?" Luke said, more a statement then a question.

"Everything's easy. I don't forget anything." She replied, swinging her legs slightly over the edge of the counter. "At least here, they don't repeat as much as they do in normal school."

"Well, this was your first week, maybe it'll get less boring." He went to the fringe and asked if she wanted anything to drink. She declined and he got himself a beer, making his way to the living room. Their apartment was small, but had two bed rooms and two bathrooms, so it was good enough. Their living room consisted of a coach and an entertainment center complete with a flat screen and a DVD player. They only had three DVD's so far, all Mei's favorite American TV shows, she having already watched them all. As he sat on the coach, he thought out loud.

"You say you remember everything you learn?"

"Duh. Then I wouldn't be here." She remarked, sitting next to him, grabbing the remote instinctively. He waved off her comment knowing that that was how she approached questioned she didn't quite care for—and that she liked messing with him.

"Then why do you like watching cartoons over and over again? What's the point in seeing them more than once?"

He waited patiently for an answer, at first thinking she'd pull another smart remark. But no, her silence was consuming his curiosity and heightening his concern all at once. Her answer—if she answered—would be a serious one. He gave her time, and eventually, she spoke.

"I used to watch them at home, with my mother. I had to take care of her because she was sick, and sometimes, watching TV would make both of us forget all the bad things." She met his eyes then, having never told him about her mother. Seeing how he was now obviously invested in her story, she continued. "When they took me, they said they would take care of her if I helped them. If I didn't, they would kill her. So I went with them. And sometimes, when Quan let me, I'd watch TV and it would help me forget everything. Sometimes, it would help me have better dreams."

"Nightmares…can haunt you." Luke said almost under his breath, sympathizing with Mei completely. He could easily guess what her nightmares were about, knowing how the Han Jiao worked. _Business, what a brutal thing to put a little girl through. _He thought. "Do you know what happened to your mother?" he asked, his tone as subdued as possible, he didn't want to pry.

"She died. Two weeks before I met you. They didn't want me to know, but I found out."

"How?"

"A friend. But…she's dead now, too." She said, her voice shaking now. Her head sunk down, her eyes staring at the floor, her unshed tears now consequentially harder to keep hidden at this angle. She didn't want him to see her cry. She didn't want to cry at all, but her body was betraying her mental strength. What did she want? Her mother to be alive? Her friend to not have died? Her life to be as it was before all of this happened?

"Mei." He said, wanting her eyes to meet his. They didn't. He scooted closer to her and wrapped a strong arm around her small figure. "You don't have to worry anymore. About anything. We're going to take this one day at a time."

"It's—it's just not fair!" She sobbed, trying desperately to stifle her cries, wanting anything but to look weak in front of him.

"I know, I know. It's Ok, let it out."

"But—I don't—want to!"

"Sometimes, you have to." He said softly, knowing the feeling all too well. His eyes burned at the not-so-distant memories of living on the streets, hating himself for not having been able to save Annie. He took a moment to compile his words and spoke when he was ready. "For half last year, I cried myself to sleep every night. I had to, even when I didn't want to."

Her sobs continued for a minute more, her face in her hands, leaning on Luke as he willingly held her there, safe to let her release these pent up emotions, her sorrow ebbing into a numb, weary awareness. She tilted her head up to look at him, her face stained with tears. "Why did you cry?"

Luke sighed. She had told him her story, it was only right that she knew his. Besides, it might be a good thing to follow his own advice and let it out, he'd never told a soul his story. And if he and Mei were going to be as good of friends as they needed to be if they were going to live with each other, then it was her right to know. She scooted back a little, giving him some room as he removed his arm from around her and sat sideway on the coach to face her. She did the same. He sighed again.

"You remember the Russians that tried to steal the code from you?" he asked. She nodded, a smart remark not even crossing her mind as she pulled back a few stray strands of her hair. "Well, a year ago, I worked for a wrestler in a casino. The Russians bet a lot of money that I would lose the first round, but I didn't. So…instead of killing me, they got to my wife." He paused, looking up at Mei for a moment, then back down. "They made it so that if I spoke or interacted with anyone, they would be killed. So I was homeless for that entire year. I cried for Annie, my wife, because I couldn't save her." He looked up at her again. "Didn't even get to say goodbye."

Mei nodded. "Me neither."

Luke let a ghost of a smile grace his lips. "Then I saw you, and life made sense again."

Mei matched his not-quite-smile and spoke from her heart, as he had. "I'm glad."

They were silent for some time, unknowing of exactly what to say, both knowing that there was so much more to talk about. Mei finally surrendered to her curiosity, wondering how such a softy could hold up for as long as he had.

"So, you still miss your wife?"

"All the time." He answered easily.

"But you don't show it." She pressed on.

"You let go of the sadness after a while, then you're happy with the good memoires you have. I used to cry to mourn her, but now I just remember."

"Ok." She paused, letting his knowledge of such tragic events sink in. She would learn from what he already knew. "Mom would have said that we met because of Fate. She was superstitious."

Luke gave a real smile. "I don't think I believe in Fate."

Mei shook her head in agreement. "I don't. Not really."

"How about luck?" He suggested, now a bit interested as to naming their seemingly fateful meeting.

"Maybe." She shrugged.

"Sheer coincidence? Random encounter Cosmic justice?" His voice got a bit higher at that, having fun with this. She actually laughed at the tone in his voice and called him crazy, which lifted the mood greatly. Whatever it was that brought them together, they were both glad for it. And in moments like these, they both felt safe in all aspects of the word. They would continue to save each other, continue to give each other support and purpose, continue one day at a time.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much for your awesome reviews! I'm so glad that you all—all three of you anyway :p—liked it. I was so sure that no one was going to read this. Since I am now definitely going to continue, I'm using this chapter as somewhat of an experiment, still playing around with their feelings about the past, but also testing Luke's nurturing skills. He says he probably won't be much of a dad, but I beg to differ ;)**

Safe in Small Numbers

Chapter 2

When Mei finally emerged from her room, Luke was sitting at the kitchen table, an empty bowl of cereal still in front of him, his eyes glued to the newspaper. Having heard her walk in, he glanced at his watch, wondering why it had taken her so long to get ready for school.

"You have to eat something before we leave." He said, getting up and putting the newspaper down on the table. "We're going to be late anyway."

She didn't verbally respond. Instead, she strode into the kitchen, back pack still slung over her shoulder, opened a cabinet and grabbed a granola bar. She looked back expectantly, still not talking. Luke narrowed his eyes at her, highly suspicious. Testing an incomplete theory, he sat down slowly, picking up the newspaper again and pretended to read it. Silent moments passed, forcing Mei to speak.

"Come on, we're going to be late!" She said, her voice completely distorted by whatever sickness she'd caught. She knew then by seeing the look on his face that he wasn't going to let her go to school.

He took her back pack and granola bar. "We're not going anywhere. Go back to your room and lie down."

"But I don't feel sick." She protested, trying her best to clear her throat, but to no avail.

"Well, you are, and you could give it to other kids."

For a moment, they were silent, both unshakable in their determination to win this small argument. This was something Luke had predicted would happen eventually, knowing how stubborn she could be, but it still didn't quite make sense to him. Usually, they were harmonious in their decision making, and if compromises needed to be made, they'd make them. He'd yet to use his adult authority over her because of her highly advanced logic—for an eleven year old—and because of it, she usually assumed that he knew best when it came to most things thus far.

Looking at her as she crossed her arms, he changed his tone, not wanting to start to fight. "It's best you stay here today. Don't want anything getting worse." At that thought, he wondered if it was merely a cold or something more serious, like strep. He could see in her eyes that she understood, but didn't like it. She twisted in the direction of her room.

He tried to console her. "It's only a Friday. It'll be like having a three day weekend. I mean, you may be in bed for most of it—"

But before he could finish, her door was closed. He shook his head, somehow knowing that she wasn't mad at _him_. A part of him thought that her reaction to being sick was another one of her stubborn responses to looking weak. But he knew better than that, it was much more psychological. Mei was much more complicated than she looked.

He turned back to the kitchen table and shrugged off his jacket, he wouldn't be needing it today. Eyes glancing back to the newspaper, his highlighted markings sharply stood out to him among the black and grey of ink and newsprint. Originally, he had been planning to go job hunting while Mei was at school, but clearly, he was needed here, even if she didn't want to be looked after.

…

Mei sat in bed, wishing she were in the living room watching TV. That had been another minor disagreement between them, owning more than one television so that she could have one in her room. She'd settled for the idea of getting a laptop when the need arose, which might be soon based on all the school work she was now required to do.

Nevertheless—although she hated to admit it—she did feel sick, and it felt nice to be lying down in her pajamas again, though she was getting a bit peckish.

Just then, her door opened and Luke came in holding a steaming bowl in an oven-mitted hand.

"I made soup for breakfast." He said, suppressing a smile as he walked in. She was surprisingly adorable when irritable, or was it just this rare moment, her hair messily strewn across her pillow, her small arms crossed in a slightly childish way. Either way, he couldn't quite explain the feeling.

Less than fond memories of making and eating endless gallons of soup crossed her mind at the very word, making her face contort in distaste. "I don't like soup."

"It's good for you." Luke said, no hesitation, more encouraging than reprimanding. "The heat will help your throat."

Ever so reluctantly, she sat up and took the bowl he was offering her. Seeing that she didn't burn herself, he left to get her some water. When he came back, she was slowly eating. She looked up at him.

"Are you still going out today? To look for a job?"

"That can wait until tomorrow." He said, placing the glass on the nightstand and turning with the intension of leaving her be.

"You don't have to look after me. I'll be fine." She said after swallowing a spoonful of the surprisingly good soup. She looked at it, never having tried this kind before.

It was then that it hit him. She'd taken care of her sick mother for years before this, therefore hating being sick and thinking she could take care of herself. It all made _too much_ sense. Having figured that out, he felt sorry for her, wanting nothing more now then to show her that she didn't need to take care of herself; that he could relieve her of some notion that she had to be anything more than a child—A TV watching, sarcastic, genius child, years away from adulthood.

"Yes, Mei, I do." Luke replied, turning back to her.

"No you don't, I'll be fine if you lock the door. No one knows we're here, no one's after us—"

"It's not that." Luke interrupted, though it was still a possibility.

"Than what is it?" She asked.

Luke sighed, unable to really think of a real reason other than the fact that he wanted to and knew it was the right thing to do. Having enough knowledge as to how she was raised, he didn't know how to explain to her that children her age were nowhere near as self-reliant as she was, or as self-contained, or as exposed to the amount of violence she had been…

"I just want to be here for you. Is that such a crime?" He finally said.

Mei stared at her soup for a moment, thinking. A memory of Quan came and went. She hadn't thought about him in a while and was still unsure of her feelings about his death. She looked up, remembering what had happened the day before. "I made friends at school yesterday."

Taking the change in subject as an invitation to stay and talk, Luke sat down on the edge of the bed to hear what she had to say.

"I said I'd meet them in the cafeteria today so that we could have lunch together."

Luke nodded, happy that she was willing to share her thoughts. "I'll call the school so they know you're staying home sick. Your friends can wait, they'll be there next week."

_But what if they aren't?_ She stopped herself from saying. She knew that Luke was probably right, but how could they know for sure? She was so used to sudden death; the uncertainty of knowing whether someone you saw one day would be there the next. What if her gifted friends were targets too?

"Ok." She said, settling for agreement. She looked back at her bowl of soup, unable to finish.

"I can save that for later." Luke said, taking the bowl from her as she nodded. When he left the room, she felt a sudden tiredness that she did not resist. Closing her eyes, her thoughts drifted to just yesterday…

She and Manisha had been talking after class, heading for the cafeteria. Mei had been given chemistry, the one science class that integrated more math than labs into the curriculum. Manisha had been quick to make her acquaintance, both around the same age. They surprisingly got along well and Mei had been immediately happy for it, having missed actually having friends her same age more than she had initially thought. It made her a bit home sick, knowing that her old friends didn't know where she was or what had happened to her.

"I've never really liked science, but you make it sound fun." Mei said while they were waiting in line. Manisha's excitement for the sciences was all too inspiring.

"Well, it is fun, but at the same time, it's really important." Manisha said, her Indian accent strong, though she'd lived in America most of her life. "In just five years, scientists say that the cure for cancer is possible! If we can do that, there's no limit to what else we might be able to do!"

"There goes Mani, talking about the greater good of mankind again."

Both girls turned their heads to see a boy just behind them in line. Looking at Manisha, Mei assumed that she knew this blonde haired boy with the very slight French accent.

"Says you, Gustave, who has no desire to help the world with his gifts at all."

"I don't even have any gifts." He retorted. "Not like you, anyway." He looked down at Mei, a little less than a foot taller than her. "Hi, I'm Gustave, as Mani so rudely pointed out." He extended his hand and she took it. "Are you new around here?"

"Yes, I just moved here."

"From China?"

"From New York! I'm not _that_ new here." She replied sassily.

Gustave raised his hands in mock surrender, smiling through his apology. "Sorry about that, assuming is bad. I really should've learned with Mani."

The comment earned him a familiar elbow to the ribs. And with that, they got their food and sat together. Manisha explained that Gustave was her older brother's best friend, Gustave attending two different schools at the same time.

"Yeah, they made me take some art classes here once they found out about my photographic memory. I feel like a lab rat sometimes." Gustave said in between bites of his sandwich.

"They told me that I have something like that." Mei said, choosing to omit some details about how she's used that memory.

"Yeah, but can you record everything exactly how you saw it?"

"Like, drawing?" She asked. He nodded vigorously. "I can't draw."

"Well, I can't do math. Numbers don't like me and I don't like numbers. But details…" He rummaged through his back pack to get a pencil and sketchbook. "I'm good with details." At that, he turned around and started drawing. Manisha rolled her eyes, apparently having seen him do this before. By the time they were done eating, Gustave had drawn a portrait of Mei. He ripped it out of his sketch book and gave it to her.

Her half dreams slipping away from being pleasant at that moment, melting into a scene of Uncle Han handing her a piece of paper with that long, boring number on it. His words floated around her head, telling her to memorize the number, telling her that her mother's life depended on it. The flame that burned the paper then sent smoke into her next memory of Quan telling her that there was no one in the world that loved her more. Blood then replaced his image, her hands covered in it.

She woke up screaming. She stopped herself, hoping that Luke had not heard, but her hopes failed her when she heard his footsteps approaching. He entered swiftly, his eyes searching her room before they fell back on her.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing." She said, rubbing her hands together, stopping herself after a second. "When did I fall asleep?"

"About an hour ago." Luke replied, sighing somewhat out of relief. He pegged it down to a nightmare, which was easy to fix. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Can I watch TV?"

"Yeah."

She was still a bit tired, but walking was easy enough. Her head was clogged, but she didn't let a little dizziness get in her way. Luke took a pillow and a blanket from her bed and followed her out of the room.

She sat on the couch and he tucked her in, reaching for the remote. "Luke," Mei spoke, unsure of what exactly she was about to say. "You knew Quan?"

Luke froze, her question catching him off guard. His memories of Quan were not good ones, but he guessed that hers weren't too good either.

"Yeah. Had a few bouts with him. Had to keep an eye on him when I was on the force. Why?"

She hesitated. She trusted Luke like no one else, but a part of her didn't want to talk about Quan. That part of her wanted to forget about him, to forget about the murders he'd made her endure with eyes open; the business he'd made her a part of. But another part of her wouldn't let go, not until she knew whether or not he was truly a liar.

"He was a bad man, like all of them, but he was still loyal, and he didn't lie. It was bad business to lie, but good business to scare people. He was good at that, even though he didn't scare me."

Luke nodded, wanting her to continue.

She sighed heavily, slightly annoyed with her own insecurities. She just wanted this off of her chest now. "Before he was killed, he said that no one in the world loved me more than he did. He doesn't lie, so I believed him. But," she turned away then. "If he loved me, he wouldn't have tried to kill me when the Russians stopped us." She looked up again. "Right?"

Luke was momentarily at a loss for words. He knew some criminals could be deceiving, and he couldn't see Quan having very strong feelings for Mei—not like he did at least. But at the same time, it wasn't impossible. He tried his best to reassure Mei.

"Right. If he really loved you, he wouldn't have let any of this happen. You'd be in China right now and…" he stopped himself from saying what was on his mind, but they could read each other.

"My mother would still be alive?" she finished. He nodded. She did too. She suddenly felt indebted to this man again for taking her in and caring for her. She hadn't been shown such kindness in a very long time. But she knew, he would do so much more for her then Quan ever could. She was _life_ to him, as he'd articulated while held at gun point, so she supposed that entailed some form of love, which was why she felt so safe around him; why she could open up to him like this.

Their eyes met again briefly, a moment of understand passing between them once again. They had both been wronged, broken, and beaten by the world, but in each other, there was hope for the future.

They found a movie to watch eventually, but Mei fell asleep before it ended. Luke paused the movie once he noticed, wondering whether or not he should take her to her room or leave her where she was on the couch. In watching her sleep, he wondered about her dreams. He still woke from nightmares, Annie's blood in his hands. Hopefully, she would be able to find solace faster than he could, maybe she could even erase it from her brilliant mind. She was still young; she might be able to move on at this rate. But if she couldn't—if there were some scars that he could simply not help to heal—he would always be there for her, like he was now, whether she wanted him to be or not.


End file.
